


Consequences Of An Engagement Party

by BirdofFire



Series: The Dinner Party Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 14:38:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdofFire/pseuds/BirdofFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been six months since the now infamous dinner party, and Hermione, Draco and Blaise are in a relationship. However, with their friends' engagement party, comes a startling realisation, painful admissions and unforeseen consequences. Once again, what happens in Vegas, doesn't always stay in Vegas...</p><p>More Info: Features the return of those devious Slytherins and the well-meaning girl whose insecurities aren't buried quite as deep as she'd hoped. Also features now-engaged love birds, still dear friends and an engagement party with a list so exclusive, Merlin, himself, would have difficulty making the list.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Consequences of an Engagement Party….**

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

_Fuck_.

A sodden lump in her throat, Hermione pushed open the front door and hurried into the expansive hallway, slamming it shut behind her. She slumped against it, relieved, her stiletto heels scratching into the wooden floorboards.

 _Stupid,_ stupid _girl._

Roiling nausea rose up in her throat and had to be forcibly choked down. Her heart raced, her moist palms slipping against where her hand still grasped the door knob. But she couldn’t afford to stay there like that. She only had five minutes, ten tops, before they caught up to her. Precious few to grab her belongings and get the Hell out of dodge.

Grasping the last remnants of her courage by the throat, Hermione propelled herself off the door and hurried through the lavish hallway, various darkened rooms and up the spiral staircase. For the first time in almost half a year, the penthouse’s luxurious surroundings were paid no attention as Hermione breezed into the furthest bedroom down the hall and into the bathroom.

A quick glance at the clock on the wall. Four minutes.

…..

_The twinkling lights in the ballroom reflected off champagne flutes and diamond earrings. Laughter rang through the expansive space; well-dressed guests swept across the dance floor and others emitting a low buzz of chatter from alcoves and positions on the side-lines. Waiters in black suits moved discreetly between the guests, bearing loaded trays._

_A large warm hand rested at the small of Hermione’s back, guiding her in the waltz they were sweeping across the dance floor. Her gaze turned back to her dance partner whose indigo eyes laughed back at her._

_“What?” Hermione asked, an unconscious smile gracing her full lips._

_“Really, tesoro?” Blaise smirked, amused. Giggles burbled up from Hermione’s throat, where diamonds nestled in its groove._

_“Look at Harry.” She motioned with a lift of her chin to the slightly drunk – and clearly ecstatic – dark-haired man, who was off to the side of the room, twirling his fiancée against her will. Pansy was reprimanding him sternly between off-beat twirls, but her wide smile gave her away._

_“He’s so happy,” Hermione noted, her smile softening. Her handsome dance partner glanced back at her, his eyes taking on a peculiar glow. But Hermione didn’t notice. After everything Harry had been through – after everything_ they _had been through – they were somewhere they would never have expected just a decade before: happy, in great relationships, and with their friends and family safe and secure._

_After three and a half years together, Harry had finally popped the question to an impatient Pansy, who, paying no heed to the other diners, had practically leapt on him in the middle of La Barbe. Tonight’s lavish event was their engagement party, held at Parkinson Hall with a guest list so exclusive, even Minister Shacklebolt had wondered if he’d receive an invite._

_Ron and Luna were also on the fast track to marriage, with the two love birds having just become roommates after almost two blissful years._

_Hermione, herself, had arguably had the most eventful six months of her life. After the now infamous dinner party at the soon-to-be Potters’, her relationship with Blaise and Draco had gone from strength to strength. The passion that had sparked their ‘tripling’ (as Pansy had cheekily taken to calling it) had never dwindled (indeed, if anything, it had only increased), but on the various trips, sojourns and short vacations they had taken, she had learnt things about both men that she hadn’t in the years they’d been working together._

_Draco challenged her mentally and sexually; often arguing with her about their work, slate eyes sparking mischievously, and driving her to distraction with his various (and skilled) seduction techniques, spoiled ways and ingrained sense of entitlement. Blaise, on the other hand, was the romantic; dancing with her in the candlelit living room in his penthouse, even when there was no music, reading her verses from the old books they both loved and whispering Italian endearments to her as she trembled under their hands. The two men made her happier than she had ever been, each giving her something different, though equally as valuable and appreciated._

_Yet, despite this, they had yet to determine what they actually were to each other. She couldn’t help but wonder why Blaise and Draco had yet to try to pressure her into something more… permanent. Hermione’s experience with Anthony made her gun-shy, but what was_ their _excuse?_

_“He deserves it,” Hermione murmured, turning back to the gorgeous Italian. A whirl of dark robes and red hair swept past her and Hermione shot a smile at Fred and Katie. The slightly rough hand on her bare back came up to stroke her cheek and she leaned into its warmth._

_“Yes, he does,” Blaise agreed, before leaning in and dropping a gentle kiss on her upturned mouth. His enigmatic gaze held her entranced for a moment. There was an odd light there that she’d caught only a few times in the last few months, before the dark-haired man quickly covered it up with a bewitching grin._

_But before she could ask him about it, instantly recognisable fingers brushed her bare shoulder._

_“Come on, Granger,” a honeyed drawl breathed into her ear. “My turn.”_

……

Seizing various toiletries and her much-maligned hairbrush (Draco still persisted in teasing her for the uncontrollable bush that had afflicted her during her youth, but couldn’t seem to resist playing with it, alluring grins lighting up his aristocratic features), Hermione shoved her few belongings into a shopping bag. The bathroom’s harsh spotlights hurt her eyes and, for the first time, she cursed the marble floor. She’d slipped twice whilst hurrying across the room and now she had a sore shin which, no doubt, would bruise tomorrow. The cherry on top of a shitty evening.

How could this have happened to her? _Her_? The woman whose exes often complained about being kept at an emotional distance, who preferred staying at home or working on cases to meeting up with her amour of the day. Hadn’t Adrian Pucey, who she’d dated for a few months a couple of years back, complained about being used (and this was a direct quote here) ‘as little more than a human dildo’? Indeed, that lemon-laced comment had led to her being infinitely more open with Anthony; giving their relationship everything she had – and, often, everything she didn’t.

And where had that gotten her? After that association had come to an explosive end just over seven months ago, she had vowed that she would return to her former, closed-off ways.

But, judging by her actions over the past six months, that had been a lot easier said than done….

….

_“Granger…” a husky laugh echoed in her ear. Hermione smiled but ignored it, choosing instead to burrow further into the enticing warmth of the body in front of her. A hand traced up her bare back._

_“Granger, wake up,” the voice persisted, trailed by the sweep of a moist tongue along her earlobe. Shuddering at the sparks that followed, Hermione giggled. Beneath her ear, she felt the vibrations of an accompanying laugh through a velvet-skinned chest._

_“Why?” she asked, cheekily, through a throat made sore from delirious begging and screaming names to the heavens._

_“You’re going to be late, amore mio,” the chest rumbled again, its accented voice tinged with laughter. Hermione’s eyes rolled to the sky. Couldn’t they see that she was comfortable? Forget work. What with her impeccable track record, not a single word would be uttered in reproach, even if she didn’t bother to show up at all that day._

_She shrugged her shoulders; well, as best she could considering the fact that they were trapped under a muscled arm._

_“Since when have either of you cared about that?” she snorted, voice muffled against Blaise’s chest. “Remember last Wednesday when you showed up at my office and ‘distracted’ me for over an hour? Cooper almost burst in on us and I was thirty minutes late to an important deposition!”_

_“Yes, well.” Draco was characteristically unapologetic. He didn’t seem to care one whit about potentially being caught in public places; in fact, he seemed to relish the prospect. The former Gryffindor was certain that he was behind the two men’s predilection for taking Hermione at any and every opportunity, regardless of location (not that she was complaining). Between their antics under tables at restaurants and in bathrooms at Quidditch games, Hermione still couldn’t believe that they hadn’t been caught and permanently banned by several different establishments._

_“You have the follow-up, today, tesoro,” Blaise took up, hand sifting through her hair. “We don’t think you’d forgive us if we let you miss it.” Another eye-roll._

_“Then you’d blame_ me _for distracting you - ” Draco continued Blaise’s thread of thought, placing a searing kiss on the sensitive nape of her neck._

 _“I would_ not _!” Indignation saw Hermione turn over to face the platinum-haired man, who indolently reclined against the white silk pillows._

_“ – And you’d probably hex my hair bright red –“_

_“ – That was_ one _time and you drove me to it – “_

_“ – Weasley and Potter would start on me, paying no heed to the devastating consequences of their unspeakably foolish actions –“_

_“ – I’m still mad at you about that, by the way –“_

_“- Then you’d nag me about cursing them –“_

_“ – I do_ not _nag – “_

_“ – And neither Blaise nor myself would get any – “_

_“ – Oh, Blaise would be getting some, don’t you worry –“_

_“_ And _,” Draco tugged the brunette back down onto the bed, the indignant woman having sat up in anger. “and there I would be: miserable, alone and horny as fuck, with no one to help me out.” He pouted (something he would vehemently deny if confronted about), ruffled blond hair surrounding his head like a halo. Hermione couldn’t prevent a smile coming to her lips at the irony._

_“You are just…” she started off, shaking her head. Her eyes were alight with affectionate irritation and laughter. Beside her, Blaise propped his head up on one hand, a wide grin on his handsome face. Maddened by Draco’s unabashed smirk, she seized a pillow and pounded him with it. Laughing, he fended off the blows._

_“I_ cannot _stand you,” She giggled, breathless from the force of her blows. She didn’t notice Blaise’s gaze fall to her shaking breasts, her nipples hardened from the colder air and visible through Draco’s white shirt (one of the many she’d commandeered from the infamously selfish former Slytherin)._

_Next thing Hermione knew, she was flat on her back. Gasping at the sudden movement, she gazed up at the two men who now grinned down at her._

_“Oh, really?” Draco asked, his smile turning devilish._

_“Oh, no, don’t even think about it,” Hermione warned, recognising that sly glint in his eye. It always indicated that she was about to lose whatever clothing she had on and lose track of the next hour or so._

_The two men leaned in closer. Blaise started unbuttoning her shirt, his warm fingers brushing against her skin as he did so. Shifting, uncomfortably, heat pooling in her belly, Hermione frowned as Draco tilted her head further back into the pillows and stroked a hand down her neck._

_“I mean it,” she persisted. But her tone indicated anything but._

_“Oh?” Blaise purred into her ear, picking up on it. Her breath hitched as two hands parted her thighs. “Let’s see about that, shall we?”_

_Her resolve was swept away along with the shirt from her shoulders._

_A few minutes later, impassioned cries echoed around the room._

_…._

Exhaustion swept through Hermione’s aching body, weighing it down even further, and, for a moment, she gave into it.

She had been stupid from the start. Staying overnight, spending almost every waking hour with them; it had all led to this. Surely she had learned her lesson after Anthony? Once again, she had given too much – been drawn to their collective flame and been burned as a result.

But this was the last time, she promised herself, picking up her bag and shrugging it onto her bare shoulder. Never again would she allow herself to be played for a fool. Though, if she were being fair, she had been the only one in the game at all.

_Two minutes…_

_…._

_Draco and Blaise were across the room, congratulating the newly engaged couple on their upcoming nuptials. The Weasley twins were regaling Hermione with tales of their latest escapades, but, as usual, Hermione’s focus was on the two men over fifty yards away. Indeed, it didn’t matter where they were – at work, out with friends, in bed – she could never seem to pull her eyes away from them._

_To be fair, though, it wasn’t just her; the two men drew glances everywhere they went. A Greek god with flaxen hair, enigmatic grey eyes and a body seemingly carved from stone; and a fallen angel with dark hair, a face that would break Aphrodite’s heart and muscles to make Narcissus sigh with envy – how was a girl to choose?_

_Luckily, she didn’t have to._

_But it wasn’t just that, she pondered, shooting a quick smile at George who was still in the middle of an admittedly hilarious story. They just exuded some unknown quality, something that held her entranced regardless of where they were or who they were with. It had only been six months and already she couldn’t remember what her life had been like before them. Couldn’t even think about what she would do without them. How she’d be able to continue without Draco’s sly smiles or Blaise’s gentle hands; the way they brought her out of herself and reminded her that her life shouldn’t revolve around her work; how they seemed to know her inside and out, bringing her to the highest of heights and being there to catch her when fell. What would she do if they weren’t there to show up at her office with the lunch she too often forget to eat; if she suddenly had to return to sleeping alone in her huge, cold bed; if they decided that they no longer wanted to put up with an obsessive, slightly neurotic, former Gryffindor who occasionally woke up the neighbourhood with residual nightmares?_

_Hermione’s brown eyes turned morose and, as if sensing her change in mood, Draco and Blaise paused in their conversation and glanced over at her, simultaneously. And, at that moment, as her eyes flickered between the gazes of the two handsome men, she came to a startling,_ nauseating _, realisation._

_Fred yelped in pain as Hermione’s hand came down on his, fingernails digging into his arm._

_George frowned, taken aback and wondered which part of his story had Hermione so affected. He had only been talking about the recent influx of applicants the twins had received for the upcoming summer months._

_Blaise and Draco, who had watched as Hermione suddenly turned a notable shade of green, muttered excuses and started to make their way over._

_Heart pounding, knowing she was screwed, Hermione turned and ran._

…

Realising that one was head over heels in love was no joke. Sickened, Hermione had raced from the ballroom and to her car (thanking God that a case had prevented her from coming with Blaise and Draco, thus ensuring that she had to drive herself to Parkinson Hall), speeding away from the Hall with a screech that rivalled the sound of Dolores Umbridge’s infamously piercing tones.

The hour-long journey back to Draco’s penthouse had seen Hermione alternatively berate both men aloud (with several interesting encounters with drivers in other cars at traffic lights, as a result) and beat herself up about falling in love with two of the wizarding world’s most infamous playboys.

Finally, she had come to a drastic conclusion: she would have to leave. That’s all there was to it. Maybe if she spent enough time away from them, her feelings would eventually fade into nothingness.

A slightly quieter (and saner) voice had told her that that was about as likely to happen as Voldemort was to rise from the bowels of Hell. But she had paid no heed to that particular voice.

So, here she was, packing up the few belongings she had kept in Draco’s bathroom for when she slept over, knowing that he and Blaise had undoubtedly left the party just after her. Indeed, the only thing she had to be thankful for was the fact that she had precious little to pack, seeing as the three didn’t cohabit.

Even after half a year together, they had yet to ask.

Swallowing hard to rid herself of the bitter taste of tears, Hermione hurried out of the bathroom, shopping bag in tow.

From downstairs came the sound of a key turning in a lock.

 _Fuck_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Part II

**Part II**

* * *

_One minute later…_

* * *

 

Holding her bag even tighter, Hermione ran down the spiral staircase and straight into the last two people she wanted to see.

   “What is going on, Hermione?” Draco was clearly irritated, dark blond brows drawn over eyes as foreboding as storm clouds. His dark-haired companion stood beside him, arms folded over a broad chest, watching Hermione’s every move.

  Breathless from her rapid descent down the stairs, the brunette clutched her bag to her side. Draco rarely called her by her first name; he only ever really used it when they were in bed or on the rare occasions that he was worried about something.

   “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” She feigned ignorance, carefully avoiding either man’s gaze. Both Blaise and Draco has shown a propensity for knowing her inner most thoughts; especially when she least wanted them to and, with the latter’s added skill at legilimency, she wasn’t taking any chances.

   “You’re lying,” Draco’s eyes were narrowed, now. Hermione remained silent, chancing a glance at him, something she immediately regretted.

   “What is this about, Hermione?” The former Gryffindor’s heart stuttered, anxious, as Blaise gently broke his silence. The blond was gazing at her steadfastly, face unreadable. Only the ticking of the grandfather clock against the far wall disturbed the tense silence.

What was she going to say? She hadn’t planned for this; had intended to clear the hell out without informing either one of her plans. But it was clear that neither man was going to allow her to just walk out without giving them an answer. And she’d never exactly been the best liar; definitely not good enough to fool doyens like Draco and Blaise.

   “I think it’s best if we all take a little… break.” So she went with the truth. Neither man moved. Blue and slate orbs bore into the petite woman standing at the foot of the stairs. Outside on the street, a car alarm went off. Hermione’s heart remained stubbornly stuck in her throat, the sound of her blood rushing all that she could hear.

Finally, Draco’s lips moved.

   “And why is that?” His voice was quiet, dangerous, and a shudder shivered its way down Hermione’s spine. His eyes were like stone; flat and cold. Blaise shifted, a little puzzled. For someone who typically wore their heart on their sleeve, Hermione’s careful lack of expression was a definite sign that she meant what she was saying.

Swallowing hard, heart now beating an uncomfortable rhythm against her vocal cords, Hermione’s nails dug hard into her sweaty palms.

   “I just think it’s the best thing for me - at this point in time, anyway,” Hermione rushed on, eyes fixed on the small space between the two men’s heads. “I have so much coming up at work and I can’t really afford to be… distracted…” She trailed off as Blaise clenched his fists and Draco visibly became livid.

  “So, that’s all we were to you – a distraction?” Draco’s eyes flashed angrily, darkening to a stormy grey. Hermione instinctively took a step back at the expression that had sent grown men running in the opposite direction, tails between their knocking knees.

   “I didn’t say that-”

   “But that’s what you meant,” Blaise’s skin had paled, two white spots high on his cheeks. Finally shifting from his standstill, he stalked closer to the shell-shocked brunette. “After everything we have done, after… that’s all we mean to you?” His voice broke, indigo eyes dimming with hurt and disappointment. Hermione’s heart finally dropped. She had never thought for one moment that they would take it like this. They were the two most eminent bachelors in the wizarding world. They could easily replace her with someone else; someone whose feelings they could actually return.

Stark despair almost buckled her, then, and her hand flung out to clutch, white-knuckled, at the banister.

   “Hermione?”

What would she do then? When she had to see them splashed across the front pages of every newspaper and magazine with their new paramour, knowing that they were loving her the way they could never love Hermione?

   “Hermione?” A large hand touched hers almost tentatively and Hermione snatched hers away, reflexively. Bruised eyes, large in her small face, flew up to meet the Italian’s worried gaze. “What’s wrong, tesoro?” Blaise continued, watching her, carefully, as if she were a wild animal easily startled. Draco stood a little further back, eyes now glaring at the ceiling as if calling for patience, mouth thinned with anger.

   “Nothing,” she snapped, eyes darting to the door. “I have to go.” Pushing past a startled Blaise and still silent Draco, she hurried towards the exit. She couldn’t stay in that place any longer without breaking down and letting them see just how much they had gotten to her.

Then, just as she was at the door, something horrendous occurred to her, bringing a cold, sinking feeling to the pit of her still churning stomach. What if this had been their plan all along? A more rational voice pointed out the implausibility of that, but she ignored it; desolation and disappointment sweeping over her in a tsunami. What if they had planned this out months ago; the Vegas trip just being the starter in a cold meal of humiliation and long-awaited revenge?

Angry, hurt and bewildered, Hermione swung back round to face the two men, finding them closer than they had been a few seconds before. Blaise started a little, eyes widening in surprise at her sudden turnabout, while Draco stood, watchful. Silent.

   “You planned this whole thing, didn’t you?” Hermione sounded choked, her eyes swollen with misery. When the two men stared back at her in clear confusion, she continued, “It was all just some plan to humiliate me, wasn’t it?”

   “Hermione, just what are you talking about?” Draco rubbed his forehead with long, pale fingers, closing his eyes, momentarily. But the brunette wasn’t having it.

   “Don’t even try it, Draco,” she sneered, eyes narrowed. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. What were you going to do: fuck me, date me and dump me? Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find out?”

   “You’re being irrational, Granger,” Draco’s tone was now ice-cold, his eyes glittering like diamonds. Blaise’s gaze was carefully trained on Hermione, who clenched her fists around the handle of her bag.

   “Ha!” The two former Slytherins froze at Hermione’s hateful laugh.

   “Calm down,” Draco tried again.

   “Fuck you, Draco,” Hermione spat, cold sparks flying from her habitually-warm eyes. Blaise visibly flinched as his blond companion continued staring at the former Gryffindor, a pulse starting at the side of his head. “I can’t believe I let you two play me for a fool. I can’t believe you…” she broke off, eyes now glittering with barely withheld tears. “I can’t believe you would _do_ this to me.”

   “Hermione-“ Blaise tried to interrupt her, stepping forward with arms outstretched as if to pacify her, but Hermione was past that point. Heart shattering, body curled into itself as if for protection, she stumbled on.

   “Why would you do this to me?” a lone tear traced its way down her pale cheek. “What did I ever do to deserve this? Do you really hate me that much?” Visibly distressed at her abject dejection, Blaise and Draco rushed towards her, the former’s face drained of colour, only to be held at arm’s length. 

   “Sweetheart, no,” Draco’s eyes were quicksilver with fervent emotion, his tone gentled now, seeking to reassure her. “No.” He was more insistent at Hermione’s clear disbelief. Tears were now streaming down her cheeks faster than she could wipe them away, so she gave up. Sobs continued to rack her body as the two men gazed at her in despair.

   “But even that wasn’t enough for you,” Hermione’s words were distorted, her sobs clearly affecting the two men who once again tried to reach for her, only to be rebuffed. “You just had to be so nice, so sweet, so fucking perfect, that I had no choice but to go along with it. All the flowers and the poetry; the lunches and breakfast-in-bed; the way you’d touch me and I’d just-”

   “Amore mio, please –”

   “Because how could I resist?” She shrugged, helplessly, eyes bright with misery and still-falling tears. “You were both so… and I had no choice but to-“

   “Hermione-”

   “It wasn’t fair. Of _course_ I fell in love with you; what choice did I have?” She rushed on, paying no heed to what she was saying, just releasing all the anguish and pain broiling inside her. Hermione finally stopped her unrelenting torrent of pain to an odd silence. Sniffing, tears finally falling more slowly, she didn’t even realise what she’d actually said until she glanced up to see two shocked faces. Blaise stood before her, indigo eyes wide and lips slightly parted in disbelief, while eerie stillness was Draco’s only outward sign.

Oh, fuck.

Fuckity fuck fuck, fuck.

Nauseous, stomach churning, Hermione swung back around and fumbled with the door. But before her panicked, sweaty hands could unlock the door, two arms seized her waist, pulling her back against a solid chest.

   “Let me go this instant, Zabini,” she stuttered, immediately recognising his sandalwood scent.

   “I don’t think so, tesoro,” Blaise’s words were threaded with laughter, his chest vibrating against her back. Draco came up on Hermione’s other side. Sick with mortification and still facing the white door, Hermione refused to look at him. How could she have just blurted that out? She had no doubt that they were laughing at her; why wouldn’t they be? The stupid little Gryffindor had just added the coup-de-grace to their little campaign for them.

   “I won’t stand for this, you two,” Hermione went on, doing her best to sound stern despite

   “Hermione, love, you’re not going anywhere, so you might as well just get used to it,” Hermione noticed that Draco was doing a better job at sounding stern. Though that was probably down to the fact that he wasn’t the one who had just humiliated himself, she thought, resentfully.

Four hands turned her round to face the two men. Blaise’s face was lit up, a wide grin on his face, while Draco’s eyes had brightened with an emotion strangely akin to joy. Chocolate eyes stared back at them, warily. What could they be up to now? What further misery and humiliation were they about to heap upon her?

   “Oh, Hermione,” Blaise’s smile softened as he brought up a hand to gently wipe away the few remaining tears from her cheeks. Eyes involuntarily closing at the caring touch, Hermione gave up the fight.

   “What?”

   “You’re so silly,” Blaise’s eyes glowed. Flinching, Hermione drew back from his warm embrace. But the arms around her tightened even further; not allowing her attempted withdrawal.

   “Do you have any idea how long we’ve been waiting for you to say that?” Draco picked up, stroking her hair back from her tearstained face. Heart giving a hard thud, Hermione’s wide eyes flew to his.

    “Huh?” Hermione was aware of just how senseless she sounded but confusion was all she was able to express. For the sake of self-preservation, she refused to allow herself to even think that he might be saying what she could only hope.

   “Six months and nothing!” Blaise’s indigo eyes roved over her face as if to memorise her delicate features. “Not a single sign that this meant anything more to you than a good time.”

   “We tried everything,” Draco glanced over at Blaise, head shaking in apparent disbelief. “Everything. We were doing our best to make you realise that this should be more than just a temporary fling; more than something to get us out of your system.”

   “So the dinners, the dates, insisting that I sleep over-“

   “All to convince you to let us stay on,” Blaise nodded, eagerly interrupting Hermione. “We thought that, if we _showed_ you how we felt, you’d be able to tell. But you wouldn’t even stick around after having sex with us at first, remember?” At Hermione’s nod, he continued, “We practically had to blackmail you into it!”

   Relief seeping into her at more familiar ground, Hermione seized on the opportunity to berate the two men for their past actions.

   “I still can’t believe you did that to me in the middle of the restaurant.” Hermione’s eyes narrowed at the memory of the two men’s wandering hands over the main course (which only worsened when their waitress had shown up to take their dessert order. It went without saying that she had quickly given in to their demands).

   “You didn’t give us any other choice, love,” Draco chuckled, briefly, hands cupping her cheeks. “How else were we going to get you to take things to the next level? Those two dunderheads weren’t even allowed to find out about us until a couple of months ago.”

   “Because I wasn’t sure how they’d take it!” Hermione was defensive.

   “Because you were scared, tesoro,” Blaise gently corrected. Both he and Draco were looking at her with understanding, so Hermione found the strength to admit:

   “Okay, maybe a little,” she murmured. “But that’s only because I thought you just wanted something fun and light. Neither of you are exactly known for having serious relationships,” she snorted.

   “That’s because we wanted _you_ , Hermione,” Draco explained, lips quirking up in self-mocking. “We’ve always wanted you. Didn’t you hear us at the dinner party?”

   “I did,” she rushed to say, eyes wide. She wanted to get everything she’d been feeling over the last few months out in the open; keeping it all in had done absolutely nothing to help her. “But hearing it and believing it are two very different things.”

   “Didn’t we show you how we felt?” Blaise asked, gently, as Draco’s arms came down to stroke her shoulders. “We thought we were being pretty clear.”

   “Hardly!” She laughed for the first time in hours. “You two are the hardest people to read. I knew that you wanted me, but I… I wanted _more_.” At her heartfelt admission, Draco and Blaise glanced at one other. Taken aback at their lack of reaction to her words, Hermione watched as the two engage in a short silent conversation.

   “This is all Blaise’s fault,” Draco revealed, snarkily, turning back to her.

   “Hey!” Blaise frowned at the blond.

   “I wanted to come straight out and lay all the cards on the table. He’s the one that said we should go softly,” Draco scoffed, rolling his expressive slate eyes. “Salazar is probably turning in his grave as we speak.”

   “But that’s only because I knew who we were dealing with,” Blaise shot a warning glare at him. “Hermione, some days it barely seemed like we had you at all. You meant too much to risk scaring you off.” Hermione glanced between the two men. She was trying to process what they were telling her, fitting the facts into her view of the last six months, but she needed all the information to form a clear picture.

She wasn’t going to make another mistake.

   “So, that’s why you didn’t ask me to move in,” she muttered, more to herself than to them. But, as usual, their seemingly preternatural hearing came through.

   “Exactly,” Blaise answered, placing a small kiss on the tip of her nose.

   “Wait,” Draco paused, grey eyes flickering back to the petite brunette. “You want to move in with us?” Hermione’s heart rose at the cautious hope in his voice.

   “Well, maybe,” She admitted, reluctantly, but Blaise beamed in response, Draco’s lips tilting upwards, bringing forth a small smile. “But you haven’t actually told me how you feel about me, yet.” She continued, nervously, eyes darting between Draco and Blaise. Draco frowned, as if surprised, while Blaise’s white teeth widened in an enchanting grin.

   “Haven’t you guessed by now, tesoro?” His eyes glowed, shimmering like sapphires. “We love you. We adore you.” Breath catching in her throat at his fervent, heartfelt words, Hermione beamed, helplessly. The three stood there, grinning stupidly at one another as the shattered pieces of Hermione’s heart reformed without a single visible crack and swelled beneath her ribcage.

   “ _Now_ , will you move in with us?” At Draco’s slightly sarcastic question, Hermione giggled, delirious with happiness.

   “Yes, Draco,” She feigned long-suffering. “I’ll move in with-” Her last words were muffled by the blond’s mouth, which swooped onto hers in a swift heated kiss. When he drew back, she was barely given time to breathe before the Italian descended for a series of searing kisses; his teeth nipping at her bruised lips. Reeling from the customary desire that burned through her system, Hermione reluctantly drew back, eyelids fluttering.

   “Wait,” she was breathless. “We have to-”

Another burning kiss.

   “We have to work this out-” She pulled back, struggling to think. Their presence was overwhelming, her senses bombarded by their incited passion.

   “Quiet, Granger,” a honeyed voice drawled in her ear, warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

   “But-” Hermione stuttered as Blaise’s tongue seared its way along her collarbone. Draco nipped, playfully, at her earlobe. If they would just let her finish…

   “But nothing,” Draco whispered, voice an octave lower than usual. Panting, Hermione moaned, helplessly, as a warm hand parted the side-slit of her gown and crept up her thigh, goose bumps following in its wake.

   “I… _please_ ,” Hermione groaned, arching as Draco dusted moist, heated kisses down her trembling spine.

   “No, Granger,” Draco’s voice was stern but rough with desire. “Not until you tell us that you’re never going to try to leave us again.” Mind spinning, Hermione fell back against him, gasps tearing from her throat.

   “I promise I won’t…” another gasp. A hand brushed against the hardened nipples poking out through the silk of her dress. “I won’t… _God_.”

   “Who do you belong to, amore mio?” Blaise’s accent had grown thicker, his thumbs flicking at her swollen silk-covered nipples. Shuddering, Hermione struggled to hear what he was saying. How had she ever thought that she could live without this?

   “Who?” Draco was harsh in his intensity, nipping at the sensitive small of her back. Almost slithering to the floor, Hermione had to be held up by both men, who were breathless with desire.

   “You,” Hermione sobbed as Draco brushed his fingers against her heated core, protected from their roughness only by the tiny knickers she wore. “I’m yours.” Hermione was too delirious to see the fervent glow in the two men’s eyes, so swept away by the consuming love she had finally allowed herself to fully feel.

The love she finally knew was equally returned.

   “You’re ours?” Draco persisted, rubbing at that particular spot on her swollen, aching clit through the cloth. Hermione was trembling, fists clenched so tight her knuckles had whitened. He was really going to make her say it again?

This was Draco Malfoy; of _course_ he was.

   “I’m yours. I promise, I _promise_ , I’m _yours_ …”

Satisfied, Draco snuck his long, pale fingers into her knickers, dancing his fingers over her pulsing nub. Blaise’s heated mouth suckled at her swollen nipples through the silk, fingers pulling and playing with its equally agonised counterpart.

Through her desirous haze, a gleeful, delirious smile came to Hermione’s open mouth, her heart swelling once more.

Yes, she was theirs. But they were also, finally, hers.

 

 

FIN.

 

* * *

 

 

So, thoughts, feelings?!

 

Well, that's it guys! I think this pretty much concludes this story. I don't think I'll ever return to this particular tale. Now, that isn't to say that you should expect anything at all, but I'm not ruling it out completely.

Anyway, I have a multi-chapter fic that came out a few moments ago. It is the HG/DM/VK I discussed before and I'm looking forward to starting something longer. You should expect chapters (of which there will probably be about 25-30) on a weekly basis - maybe more, if I feel so inclined.

if you have an LJ, friend me over on tha - phoenix . livejournal . com (no spaces, of course) and make sure to check my FF profile every now and then for updates (I update it at least twice a week with news of how my fics are going).

Until next time.

_**TBOF.** _

 


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